by Ward Wagher
Schloss sipped his coffee and thought hard. He looked up at her.
“So not only am I tasked with correcting the damage the Nazi madmen have done to our country but now I must worry about the damage some madman five hundred years on the future caused.”
“Your tasks concerning the Nazi swine have not changed, Herr Schloss. And I am tasked with assisting with the other issue. I tell you this because I may need your help.”
He studied her for a few moments, then set his cup down. He stood up and paced the kitchen several times. Then he sat down again.
“I cannot believe we are having this conversation, Frau Marsden. Has the entire world gone crazy, or is it just me?”
“You remember how you arrived here, Herr Schloss.”
“I had gone to Tempelhof to pick up Trudy and her mother. They had flown to London for a weekend shopping trip. It was 1982, Frau Marsden.” Schloss spoke quietly but was intense.
“And you arrived in time to witness the death of the Fuhrer. I know that. You stepped into the shoes of Heinrich Schloss and succeeded admirably.”
“But, I am Heinrich Schloss.”
She smiled at him. He rarely saw her smile, except for the children. “To my knowledge, there are hundreds of Heinrich Schlosses. And they are all you.”
He shivered. “Very well. As self-assured as you are, Frau Marsden, if you are asking me for help, things must be serious. I suppose I should do what I can to help you. I certainly owe you that.”
“You owe me nothing, Herr Schloss. I am simply doing my job. I need your help in preventing a far greater loss of life.”
He began to speak, then stopped as the kitchen door opened. Gisela walked into the kitchen and over to pour herself a cup of coffee. She then sat down at the table to Schloss’s left.
“I could not get back to sleep. I thought maybe a cup of coffee would be good.”
“Frau Marsden desired a private conversation, Gisela,” Schloss said.
“Then I must apologize,” she said. “I stood outside the door listening. An alternate reality explains a lot, Darling.”
For once Frau Marsden was speechless, and so was Schloss.
“The first time we were together after Hannalore’s death it seemed like I was with a different man. Oh, it was you, Hennie, but you were different. At the time, I believed it was due to the shock of Hannalore’s death, and then that of the Fuhrer. But, it was more than that, wasn’t it?”
Both Schloss and Frau Marsden continued to stare at her. She had combed out her long red hair before coming to the kitchen and one corner of Schloss’s mind considered how ravishing she was. But it was a very uncomfortable moment.
Frau Marsden spoke first. “Herr Schloss told me he had promised to keep no secrets from you. I suppose I must honor that.”
“Is the situation truly as serious as you say?” Gisela asked.
“One of the members of the team who created this mess, but she was in a parallel reality, attempted a similar experiment and cause the destruction of an entire universe.”
Gisela clasped the folds of her robe closely around her neck. “The stars and planets?”
“Everything. Twenty billion people perished.”
“And Hitler would have killed six million Jews,” Schloss said. “Was his evil merely a footnote?”
The old lady shook her head. “The destruction of that universe was an accident, although the Maker allowed it to happen. You are working to forestall a much greater evil.”
“Will I ultimately succeed?” Schloss asked.
“I will be here to help you,” Frau Marsden said.
“But, you didn’t answer his question,” Gisela said.
“I am limited in the information I am allowed to give you. We have already stepped well beyond the bounds of what I am normally permitted to do. But, the situation is grave.”
“What do you want me to do?” Schloss asked.
“I will bring a scientist across from where the problem began. He will require several days to take measurements, and then he will leave. I require secure lodging and workspace.”
“There is a small apartment in the basement of the party headquarters in Berlin, Schloss said. “Will that suffice?”
She nodded. “I would ask that you instruct Herr Rainer to assist. He trusts me.”
“Very well, Frau Marsden. I will see to it on Monday.”
“Come, Gisela. We should go back to bed. Frau Marsden, do you need someone to return you to the children?”
“I will find my own way back. And Herr Schloss, you must stay out of her bed until your wedding night.”
Schloss whipped around with fire in his eyes. “Does that not go beyond what you are permitted?”
“It does not,” the old woman said defiantly as she stood up.
“Well, it goes beyond what I permit. You will be pleased to mind your own business! Come, Gisela.”
§ § §
“How could something like this have happened?” Gisela spoke softly in Schloss’s ear.
He gazed out the side windows of the Mercedes as it negotiated the frozen road back to Berlin. Each curve brought a new winter vista.
I wonder if this is how Frau Marsden views all those alternate realities. Does she move past them like this automobile is doing?
“It defies belief,” he replied softly to her. They spoke quietly to avoid being overheard. “What I do not understand is how you came so quickly to accept this story.”
She squeezed his hand again. Since the early morning conversation with Frau Marsden, she was never far from him.
“I saw Frau Marsden appear.”
“What?”
She leaned closer to him. “It was the night you and Peter took over the government. You will remember Frau Marsden asked me to stay at your house. I had gone to bed and remembered I had left my purse downstairs. You know how things can sometimes stick in your mind. I did not need it for anything in particular, I just decided I needed it. I slipped downstairs and as I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to go along the hall and saw her. There was a popping sound and she was just there, at the other end of the hall.”
“What did she say?” he asked.
“She did not see me, I thought. I was in the shadows, and the lights were off. I did not understand what I had seen until I overheard Frau Marsden speaking with you last night.”
“And you understand now?”
She waited as the car eased towards an intersection. The driver shifted back to first gear with a crunch as they came to a stop. They accelerated again, and the smooth voice of the in-line eight-cylinder engine sang in harmony with the whine of the gears.
“Well, perhaps saying that I understand is an overstatement. What is very clear to me is why I have come to love the man who is Heinrich Schloss. The other… you called him the Alter-Schloss?”
Schloss nodded.
“I respected him,” she said. “But, you care about people. I think, to him, people were just tools. Do you think God brought you here?”
He leaned his head back against the car seat. Once again, she amazes me with her perception. And how do I even answer these questions?
“For all of my life, Gisela, I have been a comfortable atheist. I did not believe in a god or even blind fate. I would not admit this to anyone else, but the events of the past year have stressed those beliefs.” he snorted. “On the other hand, who else could I admit this to?”
She slipped her arm through his and re-engaged his hand as she snuggled closer. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed her closeness. A wave of weariness swept over him. They had not slept again after the early morning conversation with Frau Marsden. Gisela had gently prised the details of his prior life from him as they lay together, and he was amazed at her perceptiveness. He had finally been able to share with her the inner core of his existence, and was thrilled at the release this gave him… to finally have someone to share this with. He drifted off to sleep as the grosser-Mercedes rolled across the North-German
countryside.
Frau Marsden had prepared his favorites for the Sunday night supper. Peter and Renate arrived shortly after Schloss did, and they enjoyed a family evening together. Schloss soaked up the love from the children and from his sister. The events of the previous evening receded somewhat until Renate caught him. He had managed to separate himself from Gisela long enough to visit the toilet and his sister waited when he stepped out.
“What has happened, Hennie?” she asked.
“I am not sure what you are talking about,” he replied.
“Something it different with you and Gisela. Something… well, I cannot explain it. But it is almost like you are two different people.”
And Gisela is not the only perceptive one in this group, he thought. And how do I even begin to explain to my sister what I have witnessed in that other Germany of 1960?
“It was a very good weekend,” he said. “We had good conversations and grew closer.”
Renate shook her head. “Somehow, I think it is more than that. There is no question you two are much closer. She will hardly leave your side. What happened out there?”
“Rennie, I cannot explain it to you. All I can ask is that you trust me and leave it be.”
“What do you mean, leave it be? Why can you not tell me?”
“Let it go, Rennie,” Schloss said.
Renate backed up a step and looked frightened. “I haven’t seen that look on your face since before Hannalore passed.”
Schloss shook his head. “You are simply going to have to trust me.”
“Will you ever tell me?” she asked.
“I do not know.”
Gisela reluctantly left to go home that evening, not willing to endure the glare Frau Marsden could bestow upon any who challenged her authority. She had confided to Schloss that she feared another change that would place him out of her reach in another reality. And if she was afraid, he was terrified. Frau Marsden’s explanation of the troubles with the alternate realities strained credulity but also contributed to the unease that offset his satisfaction with life on this world.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A very somber group of ruBracks again stood in a small group in a conference room at Hilton Head. Miller had selected this time and place since not many humans were around. Hurricane Hugo was headed for landfall north of Charleston and most of the locals had scurried for cover. Marsden gazed out the window at the wind-swept golf course and the rough surf beyond it. Franks busied herself at a side table where a buffet was laid out. Wallace had already filled a plate and was eating. Ekaterina paced the room.
With a slight pop, another ruBrack entered the room. This one was clearly older than the others, with fine white hair that hovered like a halo over her head. The others turned to face her.
The other ruBracks bowed slightly. “Greetings, Tasker,” Miller said.
“The rest of you may go ahead and eat, or not, as you prefer,” Tasker said. “We can conduct the meeting in any case.”
Marsden sighed and marched over to the buffet and reached for a plate.
“I do not understand how you can feast under these circumstances,” Ekaterina said. “Billions of humans died.”
“That branch was under interdict,” Wallace said. “The Maker warned them repeatedly. Repent or be destroyed.”
“And there was no Abraham to bargain with the Maker in this case.”
Tasker smiled sadly. “The Maker was grieved. But the Judge of all creation will do right.”
“But, the price.”
“I have no standing to evaluate the Maker’s actions,” Tasker said. “We exist to serve.”
Ekaterina nodded but said nothing more.
Tasker looked around the room and nodded.
“Very well. The tragic events of the interdicted branch have also purchased more time to solve the underlying problem.”
“Edgar Forsenn’s investigation convinced him that the wave from the discorporating universe neutralized the harmonic and may have solved the problem of the harmonic,” Wallace said. “Mr. Forsenn is uncommonly skilled. In fact, his entire team is.”
“Nevertheless,” Tasker said, “while the current underlying rhythms are quiescent, harmonic wave persists.”
“We cannot detect it,” Wallace said. “Edgar was not able. And his equipment is sensitive.”
“The problem persists,” Wallace repeated.
“The Maker told you,” Miller said.
Tasker cocked her head but did not directly respond.
“Nevertheless, we must work to find a solution. It is not the Maker’s will that this universe perish.”
“Could He not intervene?” Ekaterina asked.
“This train of events was begun by humans. We are obligated to help them correct the problem.”
Wallace looked uncomfortable. The answers did not satisfy her completely.
“What if we are not able?” she asked.
“Peace,” Tasker said. “There will be a solution.”
“I fear for the universes in this branch,” Marsden said. “I have invested much of my life working in the group. I have numerous projects.”
“As do each of you,” Tasker said. “And the problem with the harmonics interferes with those projects.”
“I have labored over the timeline of my current project,” Marsden said. “The current subject will come to know the Maker. An out of control harmonic would cut across that timeline and condemn the man.”
“You must trust the Maker,” the Tasker said. “He has the ultimate control of the timeline.”
Marsden shook her head. “It is a challenge remember that. The subject’s family are good people. I am working on influencing the timeline, not only for the subject but for his wife. The subject’s sister and husband are part of the project, not to mention his two children.”
“We all understand,” the Tasker said.
Ekaterina wandered over to the window. “I do love this weather. It is so energetic.”
Wallace walked over to stand next to the stocky, silver-haired ruBrack. “And the storm will be a tragedy for the people of this universe and its analogs.”
§ § §
Quintan Rogers had quietly consulted with Arnold Gingery and then instructed the building manager to adjust the flow of air in the laboratory to accommodate the Woogie’s accompanying odor. A local enviro contractor had slipped in one evening after everyone had left for the day, and carefully placed a return air duct above Shuurely’s workstation.
No one commented on the adjustment, but everyone was more productive through not having to react to the waves of menthol and stinkweed which emanated from the Woogie. And Shuurely quickly ingratiated itself to the team.
“We are missing a key element,” Forsenn muttered. “I just cannot get the model to work.”
Sally studied the equations on the display-wall and frowned. “We have reviewed and reviewed the math. It should work.”
Edgar tapped a few keys and a small section of the display-wall turned red and began blinking. “Here is where it falls apart. The observations do not match the predictions.”
Shuurely stepped away from the workstation and thrummed over to the display-wall. The Woogie tapped the offending equation with the tip of one tentacle.
“The math works, the physics not work. The Woogie has to go with the physics.”
“So, can we modify the equation to reflect an X factor?” Quintan asked. “If we can get the math to reflect the observed reality, then maybe we can tease out the actual cause.”
“I wish we could study the effect from the other side of the interstitial space,” Edgar said.
“You are not going to fire up the machine again, Ed!”
“I know that, Quintan,” he snapped. “Credit me a little common sense.”
“Yes, but you must admit, that this has not been your strong suit in the past.”
“I believe that is really unkind, Quintan.”
“Gentlemen,” Mrs. Wallace said softly. “
The bickering does not help.”
Without another word, Quintan returned his attention to his comp term.
“Are you suggesting, Edgar, that a ruBrack escort you to a nearby parallel universe where you might observe?”
“Yes, yes, that is it exactly. Can you do that?”
“There is a difference between can, will, and be permitted,” the ruBrack said.
“So, it is possible, then?”
“Only if I secure permission.”
“How much equipment can I bring?”
“Only what you can carry in your arms.”
“What do you think, everybody?” Forsenn asked.
“No parallelogram for the Woogie,” Shuurely said. “Not want to be in two places at once.”
“I think it would be interesting,” Edgar said.
“It is the Forstner’s bit,” Shuurely said.
“I think you meant it is Ed’s neck,” Sally said.
“That, too.”
“I think we need to talk to Arnold about this,” Quintan said, “and probably the paladin.”
“We should not get ahead of ourselves,” Mrs. Wallace said.
“But do you think we should do this, Mrs. Wallace?” Edgar asked.
“If the humans think it necessary, I shall attempt to convince the Tasker.”
“And if the Woogies are convinced?” Shuurely asked.
Mrs. Wallace smiled at the pink creature. “I am sorry Shuurely. You are included in the team.”
“No harm, no bird.”
Mrs. Wallace cleared her throat. It sounded like the subterranean rumble of an earthquake. “Er… yes, of course. Please confirm with Mr. Gingery and the paladin. I will consult the Tasker.”
She stood up and blinked out of the universe with a slight pop.
“Pop goes the ruBrack,” Shuurely commented. A fragment of a melody escaped from the Woogie’s vocoder.
Sally snorted and leaned towards her workstation. Edgar looked over at the Woogie and raised an eyebrow. “You should be careful, Shuurely, ruBracks are not the harmless old ladies they resemble. She could probably turn you into a fine pink mist.”